The Tears Devourer

XII

    They talked for hours, or at least the nurse believed in that illusion. As she expressed herself about her past love affairs, customs lost over time, times lived at war, memories of her sad past, unfulfilled goals, and the decline in female clothing over time.

    He only affirmed with his voice, head, or hands. A couple of 'sure' and 'yeah' was enough to keep her entertained to his ultimate reward: the vibrant ringing of the doorbell signaling the end of the day.

    Michael said goodbye to the lively and lonely nurse. During the day they were only interrupted twice: once dramatically, a girl with headaches, but he realized that she had crossed the hall before, and only went in to try to keep him company, despite Mrs. Spence's directions, but when Michael paid no attention to her, she left, offended, and the second was just an i***t who mistook the infirmary for the bathroom door.

    The boy withdrew from school, paced the student parking lot, and not seeing his muse, he got into his silver '95 Honda Civic, still staring at the front door of the building. He put on his belt, but it didn't start the engine. He opened the trunk of the passenger seat, took out a small bottle of disinfectant, and ran it over his hands and face.

    Suddenly, he put the bottle on the side seat, realizing that she was leaving school. But she wasn't alone. That boy from the dining room and the other brunette from the living room accompanied him and walked with her. The girl said goodbye first and left the small group, the boy instead, walked with the new one to the bicycle parking lot.

    They talked for a few more minutes, till the guy walked away, taking a course that wasn't important to Michael. He started the car's engine, noticing that the girl was riding her purple bicycle, while she adjusted one of the two helmets that she was carrying in the back, and was preparing to leave the place at any moment.

    He followed her for at least ten minutes, heading for Dells Elementary School. 'The school closed over an hour ago. What are you doing here, girl?' Michael thought, but he didn't stop for a moment.

    When he saw her stop in front of the front door of the building, the boy squared a block earlier, far enough not to be noticed, but close enough, not to miss her neither.

    He saw a little blonde girl leave school. The girl ran into the arms of the stranger and wrapped her with her four limbs. Then he noticed the obvious difference: the color of the hair. While the girl who impressed him at lunchtime had her hair down, somewhat disheveled, and a shiny dark brown, the little girl had a ponytail, which held up her lush, wavy blonde hair on top.

    The boy immediately thought that perhaps the stranger girl should be a babysitter or a friend of the girl. Maybe some distant relative, like a cousin or niece. Although he also noticed a great similarity in the face, when they both turned and faced him, walking in the direction of the bicycle. "She also looks like... those eyes, those lips... if the color of your scalp were different, maybe I would wait for you. Although, is age an impediment to our most fervent desires?"

    He waited for both of them to put on helmets and set off again on the asphalt. He pursued them closely, without committing any stupidity. The three of them arrived at a picturesque house, Michael had never passed through that neighborhood.

    Their home was on the other side of town, about a thirty-minute drive away. He let both girls enter, laughing and exclaiming long, to park in front of his driveway, and leave the vehicle. He took a look around. Just one block away, there was a gas station to the north, and to the south; a thrift store.

    The rest of the houses were almost identical, so it was better not to get lost in the area, or he wouldn't know exactly where to exit and return to the main streets. There was nothing new nearby, nothing important or that stood out, the only thing that shone there was that girl that he had just met recently. That girl who had just stolen her heart, and for whom he would do the impossible to hold her in his arms.